


That Was The Time For Stories

by Katherine



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Childhood, Gen, References to Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 17:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine/pseuds/Katherine
Summary: My fiercely determined daughter would never admit it, but she was nervous about tomorrow.Stories that Claire is told, a story she tells her daughter, and thoughts of the stories she will not tell.





	That Was The Time For Stories

"Mama, my tummy's all scrunched up." My fiercely determined daughter would never admit it, but she was nervous about tomorrow. She had worked so hard on her poster for school. Worked on it with Frank's help.

What I should do, I was well aware, was tell her something reassuring. I could remind her how carefully she'd cut out each of the pictures and directed "Daddy, stick this on—there!"

But I couldn't bring myself to mention Frank, who had gone out to a "boys' work meeting" that was all too likely anything but.

Instead of talking about Bree's poster, I offered her a story. For how much longer, I wondered, would she listen to a story from me? How long before she insisted on putting herself to bed? I would miss the routine of tucking her in.

For tonight, I returned to the setting of what was her favourite story at the moment. (She liked the faithful nurse dog the best.) "Imagine you go to visit Peter Pan in Neverland," I began. She had previously made it clear she didn't want to go to a new home, away from Frank and I. Not even in imagining or pretend. So, I would soothe her with a story of a visit.

"You'll have a tree of your own to slide down inside. You'll slip down the tree that Peter Pan chose, fitted just right to you."

I reached to stroke her hair against her uppermost cheek, then continued, soft. "The tree will be enchanted like it's always autumn. It will have red leaves all the year, any time you visit. Just like your pretty red hair."

Just like her true father's hair. I remembered touching Jamie's hair. Combing his hair into a stylish tail in Paris. Picking out bits of grass, after we'd lain together under the stars, a night before battle.

Nothing like the snatched peacefulness of a too-large house, alone for the evening with my daughter. I could tell her a story every night until she grew out of wanting them, yet I couldn't dare tell her of Jamie Fraser.


End file.
